


The Stuff of Legends

by midnightwrites



Category: Doctor Who, Supernatural, Superwho - Fandom, Superwholock(kind of)
Genre: Purgatory, crossover fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 12:05:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightwrites/pseuds/midnightwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor is stuck in Purgatory. They need to get him back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Stuff of Legends

“Where is he!?” Dean shouted. The thing in front of him twitched his head to the left and breathed deeply. No one really liked to be in the way of Dean Winchester; especially when Dean is looking for something.

            “I swear, I don’t know; I’ve never even seen the man!” the monster swore. Dean quirked an eyebrow at the beast under his hands before he pulled back to let the thing breathe. The monster sagged off the tree, bending over the rest his hands on his knees. He looked up at Dean to smirk, but his face was quickly void of any emotion as he watched Dean swing his weapon at his head. Dean barely blinked at the sickening squelch of one decapitated head falling to the forest floor.

 

This is Purgatory; there’s no room for soft stomachs.

 

            “You think he was telling the truth?” Sam asked from behind Dean. Dean shrugged without look over his shoulder at Sam.

            “Doesn’t matter, he’s dead now, and we need to keep moving,” Dean said flatly. Sam sighed and nodded his head.

            “You’re right. If he’s out there much longer, we might be finding a body instead of a person. Or- hell- a different person,” Sam agreed. Dean and Sam both rearranged their weapons in their hand and continued their manhunt.

 

-

 

            The air was much colder than he was used to, and he didn’t like it at all. It tore violently through is hair and it whipped at his cheeks, making them red and rosy. His nose stung with the cold and there was an everlasting acrid smell that floated through the air.  It smelt like flesh and rotting earth. He did not like it- not one bit.

            The Doctor was frightened from his stupor by a rustling of noise from his far left. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and continued running; dodging trees and branches and roots as he went.

            When he first got here, sucked through a paradox portal that should never had been, he was extremely confused. He called out for those that he could; The Ponds, Clara, Sherlock and John, the Winchesters. No one was responding, and once The Doctor realized that his shouting only attracted more monsters, he kept silent.

            These were monsters- mutations- not the aliens that he had grown to know and be friends with. There were no camaraderie in purgatory, and it was every man, monster, spirit, and being for himself. They killed for no reason, not to feed, not for defense, but purely because they could. With only a sonic screwdriver to wield, The Doctor was uncomfortably out of his element. He missed the TARDIS and his companion, and although he was glad that Clara wasn’t dragged here with him, he missed human contact.

            He came to an abrupt stop and looked around himself, breathing heavily. His hearts pounded in his chest and his fingers twitched at his sides.

            “I am The Doctor, and I am afraid,” he said quietly to himself.

 

-

 

            “Well where the fuck could he be, Sammy, he’s a Timelord, not a freaking magician,” Dean shouted. Sam placed a light hand on Dean’s shoulders to shush him.

            “Dean, the last werewolf we ran into told us that there’s a vamp not too far from where we are that can help us find The Doctor.  It’ll be fine, Dean,” Sam reassured. He could feel Dean tense up under his hand.

            “The man’s a floppy 1,012 year old, but he’s used to aliens, not blood sucking monsters,” Dean shouted. Sam sighed and dropped his hand.

            “Yeah, I know,” he said, irritated.

            Sam and Dean continued their trek along the shores of the river Dean found Cas at so long ago. The followed the river until Dean spotted a creature lurking through the shadows that matched the description of the man they were looking for.

            “Hey, Sammy,” Dean nudged Sam in the ribs to grab his attention. Sam’s head snapped forward before he looked to Dean for instruction. Dean pointed in two opposite directions, and Sam understood the command. They both took off on their separate ways and rounded to cut off the creature that was stalking around. Dean caught Sam’s eyes moments before they both lunged for the creature. Dean grabbed him first, putting his weapon to the beast’s neck. Sam got there second, grabbing the thing by the front of what was left of his clothing.

            “Where is he?” Sam demanded. The monster shifted against Dean’s chest and began breathing deeply.

            “Where’s who; I don’t-“ he began, but the solid weight on his throat stopped him.

            “Do _not_ play games with me,” Dean warned. The thing gasped before closing his eyes.

            “All right, all right, I’d seen him running through the denser part of the woods a few days ago. Then, I noticed him bundled up under a tree. He seems to have made quite the comfortable living space for himself. He’s just up the river, seriously, like maybe a twenty minute walk,” the best relayed. Dean’s eyes flicked up to Sam’s before he let the monster go.

            “Let’s go, Sam,” Dean said shortly. Sam kept his expression steely, giving the monster one last sideways glance before he followed his big brother down the riverbed.

 

-

 

            If the day was cold, then the night was frigid. The Doctor wrapped his arms around himself and rubbed his ribs, right over where his hearts were. He couldn’t suppress the shivers that racked through his body. Things were horrible, and for the first time in a very long time, he felt as lonely as he really was.

            “Clara, Rory, Amy, Donna, Martha, Rose. Clara, Rory, Amy, Donna, Martha, Rose,” The Doctor chanted. He put a face to each one of the names he said and it made him feel a little less lonely.

He sniffed and buried his face in the crook of his arm. His clothes smelled less and less like the TARDIS, and part of his trousers were beginning to rip. His bowtie fell off a while ago, and one of his suspenders tore on a branch as he ran from a shadow in the night. His hair was dirty and the strands stuck to the back of his neck with sweat. He knew that if he looked in a mirror, his face would have dried blood on it from numerous scratches from tree branches. His hands were filthy and his nails had dirt underneath them that never seemed to go away no matter how many times he tried.

The Doctor could do nothing but sit and wait.

 

-

 

Dean lost most of the breath in his lungs when his back violently hit the ground. Running into leviathans is something he did not want to happen on his little trip back to Middle Earth. He dodged a foot that was aimed towards his head and rolled onto his feet. With his weapon in hand, Dean charged at the Leviathan, swinging once. It’s head thudded to the floor next to Dean’s feet. He heard Sam grunt loudly behind him and swiveled just in time to another Levi’s head drop. Sam huffed out a few breaths before turning to nod at Dean.

Their twenty-minute trek had been elongated into a two-hour hike through the most monster-infested area Purgatory had to offer. There was no warning when vamps, werewolves, striges, and spirits of sorts bombarded Dean and Sam. They’d been fighting tooth-and-nail since they left the monster that gave them the whereabouts of The Doctor.

“Doctor!” Dean shouted. Sam looked around and over their shoulder, making sure nothing was going to try to attack them while their guard was down. “Doctor!” Dean shouted again.

Sam whipped his head around. “Did you hear that?” Sam asked. Dean looked back at him, his features stoic.

They heard it again, a faint sound. It sounded like someone shouting, and not the sound that someone -or something- makes when being torn apart. It sounded like someone calling out to them. Dean followed the sound.   

“Doctor!” Dean and Sam said at the same time. The sound came again, more distinct as someone calling a name this time. They both started running toward the sound at the same time. They both kept calling out for the doctor, and whenever a reply would come, they’d adjust their direction accordingly. Finally, after three days of searching and relentless attacks from different monsters, Dean got his first look at The Doctor.

“Doctor!” he shouted. Dean took off on a sprint and ran towards their old friend. The Doctor swiveled around quickly and smiled when he saw Dean.

“Hello boys,” The Doctor said. Dean stopped in his tracks and Sam caught up shortly. Dean smiled and let his shoulders relax; the first time he’d felt relief in a very long time.

“It’s good to see you, Doc.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prompt written based off the brilliant hiddlesy on tumblr. Many thanks to her and her amazing gifset that inspired this fic. Comments are welcome!


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